L4D's Witch Poem & Background Story
by TayLautzFan
Summary: How the Witch came to be, and a poem about her as well. Rated T for language & gore. Enjoy!


Witch's History

"I'm really worried about this virus everyone's been talking about." Cathy said, looking at the CNN News reports about the mayhem going on in Pennsylvania. "Do you think it will come here?"

"Naw. Louisiana's too far away from Pennsylvania. We'll be fine. CEDA will fix it before it gets out of hand. Now can I _please _change the channel back to the game? The Eagles are kickin' ass!" Cathy's boyfriend, Peter said.

"Wait a sec." Cathy said absently, her eyes locked on the news.

Peter groaned loudly. He got up and put his hands on Cathy's shoulders. "Listen, baby. If this Green Flu virus or whatever comes here, me and you, we're running. Far, far away. I'll be there for you, and I'll take good care of you. No matter what. Even though we don't have a car. I'll find a way to make you safe." He promised.

Cathy sighed in contentment. "I love you, Peter."

"You too." He said quickly, then sat back down and changed the channel. Moments after he was screaming and hooting.

Sighing in annoyance, Cathy went to start the wash in the kitchen.

Peter and Cathy only lived here, in this small house. Even though her house wasn't high quality, she was happy. Peter's family lived here for years, and the property was now passed down to him.

As she started to empty out the pockets and start different colored piles for the laundry, she came across a bill in Peter's pocket. It read that just two days ago—the day she went out of town to visit family—someone had ordered two lobster dinners at a fancy restaurant that was in the city.

They weren't poor, but they weren't rich either; Peter couldn't afford this without taking a big risk. The total was $50.89.

Perplexed, Cathy walked out of the kitchen.

"What's this?" She asked Peter, who was on his knees, his face inches away from the TV screen.

"What's what?" He asked without looking at Cathy.

"This. This bill." Cathy answered. "Two lobster dinners?"

Peter turned his head quickly. "I can explain."

"What were you doing when I was out of town?" she demanded.

"I was uh…..um….out." Peter answered hesitantly.

"Peter, you promised you wouldn't do this to me. We're getting married in _three_ months! _Three_!"

"I know, I know, and we will. I was just being nice to Samantha. She was hungry and—"

"Samantha? Isn't that the girl I caught you with last year? You guys keep in touch?"

"Baby I—"

"No. You lying bastard!" Cathy ran into her room and slammed the door.

Peter stood awkwardly in front of the door. "I'm sorry, Cathy." Was all he could say. He opened the door and she was there, lying on her bed. Her body shook like she was crying.

"Hey." Peter said. "Cathy. Forgive me, please." He sat next to her and started to kiss on her neck.

Cathy gave in. She never loved anyone as she did Peter. He was her life and more.

Blissfully, they went deeper into the bed.

--------------------------------------------------NEXT DAY--------------------------------------------------

The heat beat down on Cathy's bare back. She rolled so her face was in the light. The sound of rough beating came outside. Like suitcases hitting the floor and one another.

Cathy whipped the sheets off her and sprinted outside. She noticed a little too late she was only in a bra and underwear. She didn't care.

Peter was hauling luggage in the trunk of an unfamiliar car. When he saw Cathy he grimaced shamefully. "You're awake."

"Yeah. Where you going?"

Before he could answer, a tall slim girl with black hair came out of the passenger seat of the car. "She's not coming with us." The girl hissed. "Car's too full already. All my stuff won't fit."

Cathy recognized the girl by her nasal-like voice. It was Samantha. Cathy turned to Peter. "Peter?"

He hesitating and uttered incomplete sentences.

"It's either you come with me and escape this soon to be hell, or stay here with her and die." Samantha said furiously and impatiently. "Your choice, Peter. Either way I'm taking my car back."

Peter looked at Cathy. "I'm so sorry, Cathy. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me. Someday."

"Come on! Is all the luggage in? Let's go!" Samantha shrieked.

Peter went around the car and opened the driver's door. "So sorry. So sorry." He repeated again and again.

When he got in and started the engine, Samantha rolled the windows down and yelled out, "Better get some shelter quick, skank! Those zombies aren't too far away from here! HA! I'll take good care of Peter. Don't you worry!"

The car moved then, and started to drive off onto the dirt road. Cathy ran to the car and grabbed onto the back. "Peter! You promised!"

"Sorry!" He yelled over the sound of the engine. Then he gunned the engine and the car sped off.

Cathy fell to her knees as the car disappeared under her fingers.

She began to sob so noisily that it took her a minute to realize she could hear moaning and groaning from a distance.

"Their here." She said to herself.

Scrambling into the door, she locked it and fled into her room.

"This can't be happening. This can not be happening!" She wailed. The thought of Peter breaking his promise made her begin to sob again.

She went down her knees as a strange feeling came over her. She was surprised to see that her fingernails were bleeding at the nail cavity. Putting a trembling finger up to her face, she also noticed that her hands were pale and covered with a sheen of sweat.

"Oh no. Oh no!" she screamed.

Just then, a finger nail popped off her finger. Then another. Then another. Another. Soon, all her fingernails were on the floor.

She sobbed and sobbed. "This can't be happening….." Her hands were bloody and shaking. She saw that her fingers had become elongated, and the tips sharpened.

"No!" she snarled out. She started to cough and gag, while still sobbing. Her mind was evaporating, the thoughts of pain and loss lingering behind.

Cathy growled out.

Her final and last coherent word: "Peter".

Witch's Poem

I cry and I sob from the loss that is unknown.

To you.

Just leave me alone! Don't bother me.

I may look weak

But deep inside me there is an immense strength

Fueled by the loss of something important to me.

A strength that will kill you.

Stay away, let me sulk.

I don't want to hurt you.

But I will if you get too close.

I am more dangerous to you than

All the others you like to call Special

Put together.

I'm not taking up any space.

I'm just waiting for a broken promise to be fixed and fulfilled.

I'm sitting here,

Waiting for him to return and save me from this Hell on earth.

But even though I weep for my loss,

Killing you won't be a distraction

Or a problem.

So leave me.

Alone.

I miss him so much.

He promised.


End file.
